


Loving The Outdoors

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Camping, F/M, Fluff, Unrequited Crush, not actually unrequited crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-18 18:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12394101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Darcy Lewis hates being a ninth wheel, but that's what happened when she caught her ex cheating on her before the gang's camping trip. At least her longtime crush, Steve Rogers, wasn't going to be there.Then Bucky got a text.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been on an AU reading kick and decided to give it a shot. I chose camping after putting together a mood board on Tumblr (bluecurls8 if you want to follow me). I've only been camping once in my life and we drove home in the middle of the night, so if I get stuff wrong, I'm going to lean heavily on the FICTION aspect of fanfiction. :)

She tore into the plastic bag of marshmallows with more force than necessary, causing at least half a dozen of the puffs to propel out of the bag and on to the ground.

“Aww, marshmallows,” Clint moaned.

Darcy glared at him. It was his fault she was on this stupid camping trip in the first place. OK, true, _she_ was the one who initially talked _him_ into going, but that was back when she was still with Ian and a weekend in the middle of the woods with her boyfriend and her friends and her friends’ significant others sounded a lot more romantic and fun than what it actually turned out to be: Darcy Lewis, third wheel. Or fifth wheel. She took a quick mental count of bodies around the campfire.

Ninth wheel. Crap. That was even more pathetic.

She plucked a marshmallow from the bag and jabbed it on to her stick. The end was pointy. Really pointy. So pointy she could do some damage with it. Damage to Ian, specifically. The thought cheered her up. She thrust the marshmallow into the campfire and watched, mesmerized, as it burned. Hmm … jabbing and burning were the perfect combination for Ian the Cheater. She felt herself smiling for the first time in days, but then Jane leaned over and took Darcy’s stick/potential murder weapon. No fair! She was just getting to the good part! She opened her mouth to protest, but Natasha passed her a beer.

All was forgiven.

Darcy twisted the cap and took a deep drink. Jane and Natasha were right. Hell, even Clint was right. Ian was an ass. He couldn’t see how awesome Darcy was and appreciate her for everything she was, he didn’t deserve her and she sure as hell had better things to do than waste her time with him. Yeah, walking in on Ian and what’s-her-name making out in Darcy’s dorm room, _on her bed!_ , sucked in more ways than she could imagine, but then Maria did something in the residency directory Darcy was pretty sure she didn’t want to know the details of, and the next thing she knew, she was living in a single room in a different building with no additional cost to her tuition bill.

Jane and Maria recruited Thor and Sam to move her stuff while Clint and Bucky made sure Ian got the message that he was no longer welcome in Darcy’s life. Wanda, bless her, tagged along to keep them out of trouble.

_Wanda: Ian is left-handed, yes?_

_Darcy: No. Right-handed._

_Wanda: Oh. Never mind!_

But that was last weekend. This weekend she was camping with her friends. Her super cool, amazingly awesome and oh-so-competent-she-sometimes-wondered-why-they-included-her friends. There was Jane, quite possibly the smartest person in the world who planned the whole trip in order to watch some astronomical phenomenon away from the lights of the city. Even now, she had her nose in her notebook, scribbling something only she’d understand, her petite body was cradled between the strong thighs of her amazingly hot boyfriend, Thor. Thor caught Darcy’s eye and smiled broadly. He was always so damn cheerful. Darcy blamed his major: drama. The man knew how to command the stage. He was also built like a freight train, which served him well as co-captain of their university’s football team.

Clint nudged her side and she reluctantly passed him the rest of her beer before he turned his silent request into a thing. Technically, she wasn’t quite on the legal side of the drinking age, but she was close enough. And it was _one_ beer. Hell, she drank more than that at Natasha’s last Girls Only Overnight, but that was Clint. He was barely two years older than her, but had taken on the role of surrogate big brother soon after Darcy and her parents moved into the house next to his – not that he was in anyway qualified to be the responsible one. Most of the scars Darcy had were courtesy of Clint’s ideas. Still, she loved the big nerd – almost as much as she loved his girlfriend, Natasha. Darcy still didn’t know what Clint did to get the gorgeous dance major to go out with him – and she would NOT let him tell her because gross -- but they’d been together nearly three years now.

Sam was on the football team with Thor and took a couple dance classes with Natasha, which is how he came to be part of the group. He also was dating Maria, Natasha’s best friend and the most intimidating woman Darcy had ever met. She was the TA in Darcy’s Elements of Political Theory class freshmen year and had a reputation for making male students cry.

(The rumors turned out to be true. It was awesome.)

Wanda was one of only two students to survive Maria’s instruction unscathed. Darcy was the other. They bonded over their combined admiration and fear of the older student, feelings that had not diminished even though they were now part of Maria’s circle. She was that awesome.

Wanda’s boyfriend, Bucky, was there, too – tossing untoasted marshmallows in the air and catching them in his mouth. It should have looked childish, but Bucky had this way of making everything he did look cool. Darcy had no idea how because she had witnessed Bucky doing a lot of dorky things. Maybe it was his size. He was several inches shorter than Thor, but just as muscley. Bucky was on their school’s wrestling team. He was the star, though he hated being referred to as such. He placed second at last year’s national college wrestling championships. Darcy knew the loss to Brock Rumlow weighed on him. Anytime not spent in class – he was a science major like Jane – or with Wanda was at the gym.

Bucky caught Darcy’s eye and tossed a marshmallow at her. She batted it away, unsurprised when Clint caught it midair and stuffed it in his mouth.

“Your boyfriend,” Darcy said to Natasha.

The redhead rolled her eyes. “Your brother.”

Clint planted a sticky kiss on Darcy’s cheek and a longer one on Natasha’s lips. “You know you love me.”

Neither woman corrected him. Clint was easy to love.

Bucky’s phone chimed.

“Hey!” Sam balled up a piece of foil leftover from dinner and threw it at Bucky’s face. “We agreed; no phones this weekend.”

Bucky gave Sam the finger with one hand and texted something with the other. When he was finished, he passed his phone to Wanda, who tucked it in her bag with all the others. She was the only one the group could trust not to break their no technology rule. Well, technically, Jane was their first choice, but since she had a tendency to be absent-minded in the pursuit of science, Wanda was the safer bet. “That was Steve. He’s on his way.”

Sam’s face lost its challenging look. “I thought he was stuck going to that thing at Sharon’s sorority this weekend.”

Bucky shook his head. “I told you, man; it’s over.”

Darcy pretended she wasn’t listening, casually navigating a hand behind Clint’s back so Natasha could slip her another beer. She hoped the smirk the redhead gave her was in response to her devious attempt to sneak alcohol past Clint and had nothing to do with a certain blond. Besides, let Clint see her drink. She’d need it if stupid Steve Rogers with his stupid adorable face and stupid perfect body and stupid “aw, shucks” personality and stupid smile that never failed to make her heart race was joining them. She developed a not-so-secret crush on the guy seconds after setting foot on campus and it had not diminished in two years -- no matter how many guys she dated. She was pretty sure everyone knew about it. Hell, Steve probably knew about it but he’d never say anything because he was so freakin' nice.

Dammit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve arrives at the campsite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your awesome comments on the first chapter. There were a few changes from what I originally posted on Tumblr. Mainly the part about Steve and Sharon breaking up and getting back together again over and over -- that's gone. You'll see why in this chapter.
> 
> I have no idea how long this story will be. I'm just riding the wave of writing that isn't for class. I don't think it will be terribly long, though.
> 
> Like I said, this was inspired by Avengers AU stories, which I've been devouring lately. If you haven't read the Red Velvet series by ColorCoated (Stucky AU) or Game Changer by EloiseReed (another Stucky AU; she'll ne taking it down at the end of the month because of a book deal, so read it while you can!), you're missing out. If you have recommendations for other stories, please share!

Steve carefully navigated his motorcycle over the rough dirt road that, according to Bucky's instructions, was the easiest way to get to the campsite. Driving in unfamiliar surroundings in the dead of night wasn't his greatest idea ever, but he'd always been one to act first, think later. Once Sharon let him off the hook, he threw some clothes in his backpack and took off before she could change her mind.

Steve flinched; he practically felt his mother's hand on the back of his head. She raised her boy to treat women better than that -- and he did! Steve knew he wasn't perfect -- driving in the middle of nowhere in the dark, remember? -- but he prided himself on treating women with decency and respect; something more guys his age could stand to do. No, his quick escape wasn't aimed at Sharon, but their situation -- or the situation they tried to pretend for so long was better than it was.

Steve met Sharon the first semester of his sophomore year at Culver. Like Steve, she was a gymnast and since both university teams shared a practice gym, it was only natural that they started spending time together: walking to and from practices, having lunch if they ran into each other in the cafeteria, sitting side-by-side during team study hours. People assumed they were a couple long before they considered the idea themselves. For Steve, who was usually so tongue-tied around girls, transitioning from friendship to a romantic relationship felt natural. Sharon was his first girlfriend, his first kiss -- his first everything. He assumed what he felt for her was love, and never questioned why he and Sharon were content to sit next to each other on his and Bucky's ugly plaid loveseat and watch the movie while Bucky and Wanda made out on the adjacent couch, often getting up to go to Bucky's room before the credits rolled. Some relationships were simply more passionate than others, right?

 _"Maybe you're gay,"_ _Bucky offered._

He was joking, but Steve gave the suggestion serious thought. He loved Bucky; had for years. He was good looking, smart and funny. If Steve was going to be gay for anyone, it'd be him. But no. He didn't love Bucky in that way. It took him months before he finally admitted to himself that while he loved Sharon, he didn't love her in that way, either.

Once he realized the truth, he immediately talked to Sharon. She was a great girl and deserved to be with a guy who was 100 percent with her. Only when he told her how he felt, she nodded like she expected it. She even told him she felt the same way, giving the dreaded "You're a great guy, but" speech -- not that Steve actually dreaded it. If anything, he was relieved. They laughed and talked, and Steve swore he felt the pressure lift off of his shoulders almost immediately. They were going to be OK. 

While it was easy for Steve and Sharon to come to terms with the demise of their relationship, being a couple for more than a year resulted in a few long-term obligations that, after more talking, they decided to keep without alerting others to their new status. That meant Steve remained Sharon's date for her sister's wedding and she escorted his mother during the honors student art show. Sharon's sorority formal was the last of their faux dates, but then she called Steve while he was getting ready to say she was tired of pretending.

_"I promised I'd go with you," Steve reminded her._

_"I know," Sharon sighed, "and I appreciate that, Steve, but I think we've done enough. I can't keep using you as my excuse not to put myself out there, you know?"_

She told him not to worry, to go on the camping trip. She knew he wanted to when Clint first told him about it, even though he had claimed otherwise. Steve was thrilled to leave his charcoal suit hanging in the closet and pull on jeans and a flannel shirt instead. Between school, gymnastics and preparing for his art show, he'd barely spent any time with his friends. He shared an apartment with Bucky and couldn't remember the last time both of them were home at the same time. 

His headlight reflected off a navy metal surface. Steve slowed his motorcycle. Yeah, that was Clint's truck. Thor's SUV and Maria's Jeep were parked on either side. Steve pulled in next to Wanda's Prius and killed the motor. He pulled his phone out of the inside pocket of his leather jacket and studied the crude drawing of Bucky's map to the campsite. He had assured him it wasn't far, but the surrounding woods were pitch dark. Steve reached into the small pocket of his backpack for his flashlight before pulling the straps over his broad shoulders. His stomach growled and he regretted not grabbing something to eat before he left. He'd considered it, but he was in such a hurry to get away, the need to escape his life if only for a weekend so strong, it overruled all other thoughts. Knowing Maria, there'd be enough food to keep all of them well fed; even Thor. She was the epitome of preparation.

Steve started walking. One hand held the flashlight, the other his phone. He glanced at it every so often, keeping his eyes and ears open for any sign of his friends. After a few minutes, he saw a light about 10 yards ahead. It was too faint for a flashlight. He kept walking. The light didn't move. He shined his flashlight in the light's direction and startled at the shout that followed.

"I have a Taser!"

Steve lowered his flashlight. "Darcy?"

There was a rustle of leaves and Darcy's face appeared, illuminated by the light of the iPod she grasped in both hands. "Steve?"

He nodded, realized she probably couldn't see him nodding, and quickly said yes.

"What the hell, dude?" She hit him in the shoulder. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to go sneaking around the woods in the middle night?"

Steve held his hands up in surrender. Darcy Lewis was a spitfire; he'd always thought so. She also packed a lot of power in a punch despite her small size. "Sorry," he grinned. "Why are you sneaking around the woods in the middle of the night?"

She held up her iPod. "I left my earbuds in Clint's truck. Kind of a necessity when my tent is within a few feet of Jane and Thor."

Steve stopped smiling. Shit.

Darcy cocked her head. "Are you OK?"

Steve barely registered the question. He was too busy berating himself for leaving his tent at the apartment. Not just his tent, but his sleeping bag and pillow, too. That's why Bucky left his car behind. Shit! 

"Steve?"

He forced himself to focus on the petite brunette in front of him. "Sorry, Darce." He cleared his throat. "So Thor and Jane are sharing a tent, huh?" 

Darcy nodded. "It's Couple Camping. I'm talking major rom-com setting."  

Steve groaned, his half-formed thought of crashing with Bucky and Wanda fading at her words.

"Dude, it's not that bad," Darcy assured him. "And I'm saying this as someone who just went through a humiliating breakup."

Steve had heard about Ian. He didn't know the guy well, but Darcy had liked him and Clint didn't have any complaints, so Steve assumed he was a good guy until Bucky told him otherwise. He wished he'd been able to join Bucky and Clint for their "conversation" with Ian. Darcy deserved better.

"Oh fuck!" Darcy clamped her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were wide. "I'm so sorry," she continued, her voice muffled behind her hands.

Steve blinked. "For what?"

She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her Culver University hoodie. "Whining about my breakup. I've had time to get used to it. And it's not like we were together that long, but you and Sharon ... I'm really sorry."

"Me and ..." Oh yeah. Everyone thought he and Sharon just broke up. Only Bucky knew different. "It was a long time coming," he told Darcy, not lying exactly. It was good enough to diffuse the situation, though, because she gave him a tentative smile. Steve automatically smiled back. It was hard not to around her. 

"So ..." Darcy shuffled her feet. "The campsite's back there," she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Everyone's pretty much turned in for the night, but there's food in the coolers if you're hungry. Just be sure to put everything away when you're finished."

"Bears?" Steve asked.

"Worse. Maria."

Steve snorted. Darcy flashed him another smile and moved around him. "Where're you going?"

"Earbuds. Clint's truck. Remember?"

"Yeah, it's just ..." Clint's truck. It wasn't ideal, but he could make it work for one night. "I better go with you."

Now it was her turn to snort. "For what, Steve; protection?"

"You said it yourself. There could be rude people sneaking around the woods in the middle of the night."

He couldn't see, but he was pretty sure she rolled her eyes. Still, she said nothing as he fell in step beside her, retracing the route he'd taken minutes before. They were silent, the distant sound of an owl and the quiet swish of leaves rustling in the trees the only sounds around them. Steve felt himself relax. How long had it been since he allowed himself the pleasure of doing something he wanted to do and not what he was expected to do? He glanced down at Darcy, who was uncharacteristically silent, and caught her eyeing him. He saw her lips curve slightly in the dull glow of his flashlight before she turned away, stumbling slightly over an exposed tree root. He grabbed her elbow to steady her, but she quickly pulled away. 

That was weird. Darcy was the touchy type. She was always climbing on Clint, jumping on Thor's back, or snuggling with Jane. She and Wanda were practically joined at the hip. He even saw her napping with Natasha and Maria once, the older women studying while the younger dozed with her head in Natasha's lap and her feet resting on Maria's. Sam had grumbled about the unfairness of it all, but let the trio be -- after taking a photo to share with the group. But then, Darcy had always been different around him compared to the others. A little quieter. A bit more reserved. Bucky was convinced she had a crush on him. 

_"I've got a girlfriend; remember?"_

_"I'm not saying you have to do anything about it. Just sharin' information."_

_"Spreading gossip more like it."_

_Bucky nudged him in the side. "You tellin' me you don't like the idea of that pretty thing thinkin' about you?"_

Steve didn't answer. Bucky was full of shit. Just because he could have any girl he wanted didn't mean it worked like that for everyone. Darcy was a friend. A cute friend. His cute friend. His cute friend a wicked sense of humor and big blue eyes that sparkled with a combination of humor and mischief, and an intelligence that left him in awe. His cute friend who had a body that put the women in his figure drawing classes to shame. His cute friend with long, dark wavy hair that smelled like lemons, a scent that lingered in his apartment whenever she and Clint stopped by for a Super Smash Bros. throw down.  

The jangle of car keys pulled Steve from his thoughts. He watched as Darcy unlocked Clint's ancient Ford, the driver's door creaking as she opened it. She climbed inside, kneeling on the seat as she rustled around the truck's cab. Steve forced himself to look away from the stretch of Darcy's sweatpants over her rear as she stretched to reach something on the floor of the truck, the truck's dome light acting like a beacon.

"Got 'em!" Darcy jumped to the ground, her face flushed in triumph, earbuds dangling from her fist. She stuffed them in her hoodie and slammed the car door closed. Steve reached out before she could pocket Clint's keys.

"You think he'd mind if I borrowed his truck?"

Darcy's brows furrowed. "You just got here."

Steve felt his cheeks warm. God, this was embarrassing. "Yeah, I know, it's just ..." Just say it, Rogers. Admit that you're a dipshit and be done with it. "I kind of left all my stuff at home." He tugged on the straps over his shoulders. "This is all I brought."

Darcy's lips twitched. "Seriously?"

"It's not funny, Darce."

Her grin widened. "It kind of is. Weren't you an Eagle Scout?"

He'd forgotten she knew that. "Still am, Darce."

She giggled. "Isn't the Boy Scout motto to always be prepared?"

Steve let out a huff. "Are you done?" She nodded, but she was biting her lip. Whether it was to keep from laughing or to stop herself from saying whatever she was thinking, he didn't know. "Like I was saying, I'll crash in Clint's truck tonight and figure out the rest of the trip tomorrow."

Darcy leaned against the truck. "While I appreciate your willingness to have a shitty night of sleep rather than impose on our friends, I don't think you'll be comfortable in Bessie," Darcy told him. "She's a manual; remember?"

Fuck. "I'll sleep in the truck bed."

"Uh huh. Cold metal. No blanket. No pillow."

Steve blew out his breath in frustration. "Fine. I'll find a spot near the campfire. Happy?"

"I am enjoying the fact that you're not as perfect as you seem, but there's a pretty good chance of rain before morning, so that's out, too."

Steve ran his hand through his hair. Screw Bucky and Wanda's couple time. Steve was crashing with them and Bucky would just have to deal. He had enough dirt on his best friend to keep Bucky's grumbling to a minimum. He was mentally flipping through years of memories when he realized Darcy was still talking. 

" ... so there's room."

"Wait; what?"

She was biting her lip again. He wished she'd stop doing that. "I said my tent's a double. Air mattress, too. I only have one sleeping bag, but we can unzip it, make it like a comforter. If you want."

Was she serious? "You're asking me to share your tent?"

Darcy shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, so? It's no big. I've camped with Clint for years."

But that was Clint. Steve knew the guy for almost a year before he realized the Darcy he always referred to as his little sister was an honorary title. _He_ wasn't her brother, surrogate or otherwise. But he was her friend, right? Friends could share a tent. It wasn't weird. The rush of warmth he felt at her offer? That was relief; not desire. The headiness at her words? Hunger. He needed to eat something. 

"Yeah, OK," he said. "Sounds great."

Darcy nodded. "It's settled then."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this early (5 a.m. my time) and will probably see little edits that need to be made throughout the day, but hopefully those are few and far between. 
> 
> Have a great day! Let's all kick ass and take care of each other, OK? <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has no regrets. She has regrets about not having regrets, but other than that, she's good. Really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, my lovelies! 
> 
> I'm off to give a PR/Marketing presentation, so I'm posting this without fine-tooth editing. My apologies for any errors you see; I'll fix them later!

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Darcy silently berated herself the entire hike from the cars to the campsite.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

What kind of a person offered to share their tent, _their fucking mattress_ , under the guise of friendship? Not a nice person. Steve was a nice person. After he got over his confusion at her offer (her stupid, stupid, stupid offer), his face had practically lit up as he aimed that thousand-watt smile at her. His (fucking gorgeous) face so earnest and appreciative that there was no way she could take it back without coming off like a major bitch. Not that a girl who invited a guy into her tent practically seconds after he broke up with his long-term girlfriend wasn’t already firmly planted in bitch territory, but Steve didn’t know that. He considered her a friend and her offer friendly.

The guy didn’t know how friendly she wanted it to be.

_No! Bad Darcy!_

This wasn’t her. She was a nice person. A good person. She wasn’t an angel, but she tried to do the right thing and be kind and help others. Yeah, OK, so when people were assholes, she called them out on it, but that wasn’t being a bitch. She was helping! The world sucked because too many people kept their mouths shut for too long, claiming it was more polite to let grandma and grandpa spout racist shit than correct them. Fuck that. The only way to make the world a better place was to try and educate those who made it crappy.

(For the record, Darcy’s grandparents were not racist, but there was an uncle who was so far right, she had to sign him up for ACLU and Planned Parenthood messages. If he was too stubborn to ask for help on getting off their lists, that was his fault.)

So yeah. Was she perfect? No. But was she devious? Not really. She loved her family. She loved her friends. She loved cute little puppies and fluffy little kitties and Steven Grant Rogers with every fiber of her being and had for as long as she’d known him. She wasn’t being dramatic (though Wanda would say she had a flair for it); it was the truth!

It started her senior year of high school. She was at Culver for the weekend, visiting Clint (but crashing in Natasha’s dorm room; her parents were cool and they loved Clint, but they didn’t trust other college boys) and touring the campus. On her first night, Clint ordered pizza and invited all of his friends to stop by. He was introducing her to a couple of people from the archery team when Steve walked in. Tall. Blond. Muscles so sculpted and a body so perfect, she was pretty sure she saw his twin in marble form at an art museum.

Clint was still talking, but Darcy no longer heard him. All she could do was stare at the guy who was hugging Natasha and laughing with her friend. Sam, maybe? Darcy had no idea. She didn’t know anything. Maybe she wasn’t even Darcy. All she knew was that she’d never seen eyes that blue or hair that blond or a smile that perfect. And when did she become attracted to hands? Because his were amazing and all she wanted for the rest of her life was to feel them on her.

_“Rogers!” Clint waved a hand over his head._

_The blond jutted his chin in recognition, said something to Natasha and made his way over. Darcy watched him weave his way around the crowded dorm room. Her heart was pounding. She felt faint. Clint was saying something to her and she tried to understand him, but words no longer made sense._

_“Steve Rogers, meet Darcy Lewis.”_

_Steve held out his hand. Darcy swallowed and let him take hers, feeling the light tug as he bobbed their hands up and down in a friendly greeting. “I’ve heard so much about you,” he said._

_Darcy felt herself nod. Somewhere, deep in the recess of her mind, she knew she must look like an idiot and tried to say something, anything, before the guy – Steve – walked out of her life forever._

But he didn’t. Steve was one of Clint’s friends. His boy. A member of the group Clint talked about so much when he was home. Darcy let him babble, desperate to hear more, but not wanting to be obvious about it. When her Culver acceptance email arrived, Clint’s shout of joy could be heard three counties over. He immediately started making plans. She needed to live in this dorm. She needed to take a class with that professor. She needed to avoid that cafeteria – the food sucked – and if any guy asked her out, Clint had to approve before she said yes.

_“Of course,” she promised, not meaning a word of it._

_“I mean it, Darce. Guys are shit.”_

_“Uh huh.”_

But Steve wasn’t. He was the nicest person she’d ever met. She actually saw him walking an old lady across the street once. It had been a rainy day and she had been trying to hold on to her umbrella, canvas bag of groceries and rubber-tipped cane when Steve appeared, offered his arm, and escorted her to the bus stop, not caring that her umbrella kept poking him in the face and he was getting drenched. He even waited at the bus stop so he could help her aboard. Darcy watched the whole thing from a coffee shop across the street and fell even deeper in love.

Then he met Sharon Carter. Perfect Sharon Carter who was just as blond as Steve, just as nice as Steve, and a fucking gymnast so of course her body was just as perfect as Steve’s. There was no way Darcy could compete with Sharon. And she saw the way Steve looked at her. How he opened doors for her and held her hand, how his face would flush whenever his phone chimed with a text from Sharon. He was in deep. It was love. How could Darcy compete with that?

So she dated around. Coffee dates. Movie dates. She met guys at dorm parties. She and Wanda received fake IDs from their friend Luis (that Clint still didn’t know about), and went to the bars she knew the others would never step foot in. She played pool. She danced. She drank. She dated a guy from Bucky’s engineering classes, Scott, for nearly a month. She had a brief fling with Thor’s brother. She literally ran into Peter on campus and they were together for six months before summer arrived and she returned to Iowa. Then school started again. And she met Ian. And they started dating. And it was fine. Until it wasn’t.

Through it all, Darcy Elizabeth Lewis pined for Steven Grant Rogers. God, she was pathetic.

And stupid, stupid, stupid.

* * *

Darcy ducked into the tent while Steve pawed through the coolers for something to eat. She was wearing gray sweatpants with her hoodie, but even with the chill in the air, she knew she’d be sweating if she wore that many layers to bed. She did not want Steve to see her sweat. So she whipped off her hoodie and pulled on a long-sleeved T-shirt she stole from Clint years before. It was soft from numerous washings, but the black writing on light gray was still visible: Bad to the Bow.

She toed off her shoes and placed them near the tent’s opening before turning to the mattress. She wasn’t lying earlier; it was a double. It would have been fine for her and Ian. He was taller than her by several inches, but he was lean, too. Steve wasn’t fat, but he was big. And tall. Would he even fit on a double mattress? Would both he and Darcy fit? Maybe they’d have to cuddle to make it work.

_Bad Darcy!_

She felt a bubble of hysteria in her chest and quickly got to work unzipping her sleeping bag before it erupted in uncontrollable laughter because what else could she do at that moment? The guy of her dreams was less than 10 feet away and soon he would be in her tent, breathing her air and, eventually, lying next to her. It was all she dreamt about for two years and now it was happening. Well, not exactly happening like she’d imagined. In her daydreams, he wasn’t in her bed because he had no choice. And she wasn’t worried about how she’d get through the night without touching him because in her dreams she had every right to touch him. He wanted it. He begged for it. His long fingers grasped the bed covers and he moaned her name as she took her time tasting every inch of his six foot frame.

“Darcy?”

Darcy jumped at Steve’s voice. It was soft; almost a whisper. He was just outside the tent.

_Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God._

She walked on her knees to the tent’s opening and pulled the zipper. “Yeah?”

Steve grinned. “Just making sure it was OK to come in.”

“Oh. Yeah. Mi casa es su casa and all that jazz.” She moved back so he could duck inside, his body taking up every inch of room in the already cramped space. He was hunched over, but his head still brushed the top of the tent. He laughed and dropped gracefully to his knees, the air mattress bobbing under his weight. She watched him shrug his backpack off his shoulders and store it on his side of the tent, tossing his leather jacket over it. Then, like her, he toed off his shoes and placed them by the tent’s opening. He must have changed outside because the jeans and flannel shirt he was wearing earlier were gone, replaced by a pair of gray sweatpants and a blue Culver University T-shirt.

“Do you mind?” Steve gestured to the square patch of material that served as a window. “I think there’s enough coverage from the trees that we won’t get wet if we sleep with it open.”

Darcy nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead, she watched as Steve twisted to undo the zipper, admiring how the soft material of his sweats pulled over his perfect ass.

_Good Darcy. Oh so good._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is Steve's friend. That's all.
> 
> Shut up, Bucky!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys! I'm having so much fun writing this that now I want to turn it into a series of oneshots and ficlets that all take place in this little universe. Crazy, right?

Steve let the flap covering the mesh window fall against the tent’s wall and took a deep breath. It didn’t help. He could still smell Darcy’s shampoo. The familiar lemon scent was faint, but it was enough to make his heart thud and his palms sweat. Had Sharon’s shampoo ever affected him this way?

_No._

His admission brought the familiar feeling of guilt to the surface once more. He had been a shitty boyfriend. He had allowed a relationship he wasn’t truly vested in to drag on because he wasn’t ready to admit how he felt. Then, even after he did the honorable thing and came clean, he jumped at the chance to maintain the façade of a relationship rather than face the barrage of questions. Christ, he was so fucking weak.

“So … how do you want to do this?”

Steve turned. Darcy was kneeling at the far end of the tent, which wasn’t that far, given the its size. His gaze fell to the air mattress. He had a double bed at home. It was fine for him, but back when Sharon had slept over, they had to cuddle to make it work. Steve didn't mind; he was a total cuddler. But Sharon had been his girlfriend and Darcy …

He’d never forget the first time he met her. She was smaller than he expected. The stories Clint told made Darcy sound larger than life, but when he was finally face-to-face with Darcy Lewis, it was more like her face to his chest. She was nearly a foot shorter than him. When she looked up, he was too captivated by her eyes to do anything more than shake her hand, blurt out some generic greeting and walk away before he said or did anything stupid. The day Clint announced Darcy was going to Culver, he felt the same rush of nerves he had that night in Clint’s dorm room. He had no idea why. He didn’t even know the girl. He knew of her – Clint loved to talk – but that was it. It made no sense.

“Do you have a preferred side?”

Darcy shook her head. “Dorm room, remember? Twin beds don’t have sides.”

“Right.” He was an idiot. “I’m good over here.”

“OK.” Darcy lifted a corner of the sleeping bag so she could lay down. When she was settled, Steve did the same. Both immediately turned to their sides, away from each other, leaving as much space as possible between them, which wasn’t much. He took slow, shallow breaths, willing his body to fall asleep.

“Here,” Darcy thunked something against his shoulder. A pillow. Her pillow.

“I’m not taking your pillow, Darcy.” He scooted closer to the edge of the mattress.

She hit him in the shoulder again. “Take it.”

“No.”

The mattress bobbed as she rolled over. For a second, he felt her breasts pressed against his back and he bit his lip as hard as he could to keep from groaning aloud. “I said take it!” The pillow was soft, so it wasn’t like it hurt when it connected with his head, but he grabbed it anyway and tossed it over to her side of the tent. He wasn’t surprised when she retaliated by shoving his shoulder. “You are so stubborn!”

“I’m already taking up more than half of your bed, Darce. I’m not taking your pillow, too.”

“It’s not a hardship, dude. I have my sweatshirt.”

“No.”

She rolled over with a huff. Steve closed his eyes and considered the matter settled. He should have known better. Darcy was just as stubborn as he was. Barely a minute of silence passed before she was up on her knees, bringing the pillow down to hit his shoulder again and again. “I’m going to keep doing this until you take the pillow,” she warned. 

He counted 20 hits before he sat up, making her squeak in surprise. He snatched the pillow from her hands, slammed it on the mattress and laid down on his back. “There. Happy?”

“Yep.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t pouting. He was fighting the sudden instinct to grab her arms and pull her down so _he_ could be her pillow. What was wrong with him? “Good.”

Darcy snorted, but said nothing as she straightened the sleeping bag and got resettled, once more rolling to her side away from him, her balled up hoodie under her cheek. “Good night, Steve.”

“Night, Darcy.”

He closed his eyes. His new position meant he was closer to Darcy, the side of his body grazed her back. He'd move over, but he was as close to the edge of the mattress as he could get. He should roll over, try to give her a bit more room and save his sanity, but he hated sleeping on his left side. He needed to sleep on his right. But if he did that, his front would be to her back and it would be so temping to move closer and closer until he was pressed against her. It'd been so long since he shared a bed with a woman and he missed it. He wanted to wrap an arm around Darcy's waist and pull her close, bury his face in her amazing mass of dark hair and just breathe her in until the urge to kiss her was too strong. He’d start at her neck, tiny little kisses that got longer and harder until her neck arched and she told him without words where she wanted his lips next.

“Steve?” Darcy whispered.

Fuck! Had he said something? Moaned something? “Yeah?”

She turned over. Again, he felt her chest brush against his arm and he stiffened. So did another part of his anatomy.

_Jesus Christ, Rogers! What the fuck is wrong with you?_

“Um …” Darcy sounded nervous. “I don’t have a preferred side of the bed, but I do sleep on my side and it’s usually my left, so …”

"Oh. Right." Of course it was something innocent like that. Why wouldn't it be? "Um I sleep on my side, too. My right side."

"Should we switch sides?"

"Switch sides?"

"Yeah," Darcy said. "That way we can both sleep how we want without breathing on each other."

Right. That made sense. She didn't want to fall asleep looking at his face. She didn't want to wake up to it, either. Why would he think differently? She just broke up with a guy. She wasn't looking to get involved with another so soon. Hell, she probably regretted her offer to share her tent, but was too nice to take it back. And how'd he thank her? By getting hard and imagining what it would be like to feel her body pressed against his.

"Sounds good." He pushed himself up until he was reclining on his elbows. The tent was dark, Steve having stored his flashlight in the side pocket of his backpack. "I'll move ..." He looked around. There's wasn't a lot of room to move.

"It's not rocket science," Darcy's tone was mocking. "You go low, I'll go high."

"Huh?"

"Scoot under me, Steve." Darcy spoke slowly, like an adult addressing a child. "I'll move over you."

There was one not-so-small problem with her plan and if he proceeded to do what she said, she was going to discover it for herself and what would he do then? "Um ..."

But she was already moving and he had no choice but to do the same. Her hand dug into his side. "Ow!"

"Sorry!"

"Tell that to my spleen."

Her knees brushed against his groin. He sucked in his breath.

"Sorry!" She paused, her hands planted on the mattress on either side of his waist, holding her upper body over him. Her hair swung forward, the tips of the silky strands ticking his nose. Her legs were tangled with his in the sleeping bag. "Did I hurt you?"

Let her think that. It wasn't far from the truth. He was going to be in pain soon if she didn't move. "I'm OK."

She kept moving, a bit slower. She probably thought she was being careful. She had no idea how much he wanted her to hurry but at the same time, stay where she was. He mimicked her moves, inching over to what had been her side of the mattress. When they were both settled, Darcy thrust her pillow at him while he untangled the sleeping bag and pulled it up until they were both covered. Again, almost in unison, they turned on their sides, away from each other.

"Good night, Steve."

"Good night, Darcy."

"Sleep well."

Yeah, right. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning.

Darcy snuggled deeper in her mattress, its warmth effectively canceling the early morning chill she felt at her back. It was weird. She never thought of her mattress as warm before. Or firm. Her eyes snapped open.

_Shit!_

She was sprawled over Steve. Somehow, the two of them had abandoned their separate sides practice to end up in the middle of the air mattress, with Steve on his back. To be fair, he was so large that in order for him to sleep like that, Darcy had to sleep on top of him, which is what Sleep Darcy apparently had decided to do and while Awake Darcy was struggling to find fault with her subconscious mind – he was so warm and she was so chilly and ohmigod, he crinkled his nose while he was sleeping; adorable! – there was no way this situation wouldn’t end up awkward as hell. She had to get out of there. Now!

_Do you really want to do that?_

Hell, no, she didn’t want to do that. Steve’s arms were around her waist, one hand settled on her lower back, just under her shirt, and she could feel the callouses on his hands from years of gymnastics and it was just as awesome as she imagined, but she remembered how red in the face Steve got the time Bucky told the story about accidentally walking in on Steve and Sharon. They weren’t doing anything more than kissing, but Steve’s mortification made it obvious he wasn’t comfortable with his personal life being public fodder. She could only imagine the crap they’d get for this. And she could kiss any delusion she had that her crush was still a secret goodbye.

Step 1: Untangle herself from Steve’s arms. Try not to cry while doing so.

Darcy wiggled in an attempt to dislodge Steve’s hands. Nothing happened. Well, nothing happened that would get her out of her current predicament. If anything, Steve tightened his hold and she – oh God. Something was nudging her lower belly and she knew for a fact that Steve’s flashlight wasn’t in his pocket. She bit her bottom lap. She would not start laughing! That would totally wake Steve up and if there was ever any chance of her waking up with Steve Rogers ever again, laughing was not the path that would lead her there!

Forget the arms. His biceps had biceps and they weren’t going anywhere. Plan B: she slowly moved her lower body off Steve’s and to the side, careful that any of her vulnerable parts didn’t touch his despite her hormones screaming in protest because it had been a long time since she had anything pressed against her that didn’t require batteries. When she was perpendicular to Steve’s body, her lower half away from him while her top was still firmly incased in arms of steel, she used her elbows to nudge him; not enough to wake him up, but hopefully enough to make him move and -- oh, there it is. Steve rolled on to his side and Darcy pulled herself in the opposite direction. Freedom!

She missed him already.

Darcy backed to the tent’s opening. She grabbed her shoes with one hand and felt around for the flap’s zipper with the other. Holding her breath, and saying a silent thank you that Steve was such a deep sleeper, she slowly unzipped the tent flap until the opening was large enough for her to crawl through backwards, teeth gritting as her cotton-covered knees met damp mud.

_Priorities, Darcy. Escape first, complain about the messiness that’s the great outdoors later._

She zipped the tent close and got somewhat gracefully to her feet, balancing on one foot to slip on her left shoe, then her right. She turned around and met Natasha’s even gaze.

“Good morning,” Natasha smirked. “Sleep well?”

Darcy stole the coffee mug Natasha had cradled in her gloved hands. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She swallowed the dark liquid and almost choked on the bitter taste. How did anyone drink coffee black?

A few minutes later, her butt was planted on a log near the campfire, her own cup of doctored coffee in her hands. She shivered in her T-shirt, wishing she’d thought to grab her hoodie during her great escape.

“What time did Steve get here?” Natasha asked as she cracked eggs into a large plastic bowl.

“Sometime after one.”

“And he ended up in your tent because …”

Darcy sipped her coffee. She could hear the gleefulness in Natasha’s voice. All of the girls knew about her crush on Steve, thanks to one too many secrets spilled during Girls’ Nights. Natasha was under the delusion that her feelings were reciprocated. Darcy liked the redhead too much to call her an idiot, so she changed the subject whenever it came up.

Avoidance was a Lewis family trait.

“He left his stuff behind,” Darcy told her.

“That’s convenient.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he planned it. It must have been reverse psychology when he suggested sleeping in Bessie or on the ground first.”

Natasha didn’t bother answering. Instead, she whisked the eggs into a froth while Darcy made more coffee. Maria soon joined them, slicing vegetables to add to the eggs. Clint was next, giving Natasha a kiss and everyone else a half-hearted wave as he took the path to the campground bathrooms. Pounding footsteps could be heard in the opposite direction and Darcy turned her head just as Bucky burst out of the clearing, Sam several yards behind him.

“I won!” Bucky opened a cooler and took out a couple of bottles of water. He threw one to Sam, then twisted the cap off the other and guzzled half. He dumped the rest on his face, then shook his head back and forth like a dog, getting Darcy wet in the process.

“Dude!”

Bucky grinned and lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe his face. “Hey, who’d Steve crash with last night?”

Natasha poured the eggs and vegetables into the cast iron skillet. “Who says he crashed with anyone?”

“His tent isn’t here.” He walked over to Thor and Jane’s tent. “Hey, lovebirds! Tell Rogers to get his ass out here already!”

Jane’s head poked out of the tent. “Steve’s not in here.”

“He isn’t?” Bucky turned to Sam. “Maybe he changed his mind.”

Clint reappeared with Wanda beside him. She was dressed for the day, with her long brown hair pulled into a braid. Clint still looked half asleep. He plopped on the log next to Darcy and slumped against her. “Who changed his mind about what?”

“Steve,” Sam replied. “He never showed last night.”

“Babe, can I have my phone?” Bucky asked Wanda. “I want to check on him.”

“Sure.”

Darcy caught Natasha’s eye. She raised an eyebrow.

_Just rip off the Band-Aid already._

“He made it. He crashed in my tent.” Darcy busied herself with getting paper plates and plastic silverware ready for breakfast, not wanting to look at anyone. She didn’t need Maria’s knowing look or Wanda’s empathy or Jane’s confusion. She certainly didn’t want to look at Bucky’s shit-eating grin.

“Steve stayed in your tent?”

Oh God. Clint was using his big brother voice. “I just said that, didn’t I?”

“Why?”

“To sleep. Duh.”

Clint didn’t look pleased. “Why didn’t he stay with Bucky and Wanda?”

Darcy pushed her hair out of her face. First she left her hoodie in the tent and now she couldn’t find a hair tie and the knees of her sweatpants were still damp and dirty, and all she wanted was to be back in Steve’s arms because they felt nice and he was warm and when would her pointless crush be over already? “I don’t know, Clint! It was late. Maybe he thought it’d be rude.”

“I’ll be sure to thank him later,” Wanda smiled.

“Fuck that,” Bucky said and walked over to Darcy’s tent. “Stevie! Up and at ‘em!” He unzipped the opening and ducked inside. There was a loud “Damn it, Bucky!” and then the man in question rejoined them with a knowing smile. “He’ll be out in a minute.”

_I need new friends._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve deals with the morning after. Maria and Natasha do not have time for this.

Steve thought he did the right thing, pretending to still be asleep as Darcy freed herself from his grasp and backed out of the tent, but then Bucky had called him a dumbass and Darcy refused to look at him all day, not even when he handed her the hoodie she’d left in the tent. Instead, she mumbled a quiet “Thanks” and slipped it on, hiding her curves under the mass of soft cotton.

He’d woken to those curves pressed against him, her legs tangled with his. It felt amazing. _She_ felt amazing. She fit in his arms like she was made to be there. He told himself he’d move in a minute, that he wanted to wait to make sure she was truly asleep before he found some way to untangle himself, saving both of them from what was sure to be a humiliating stammering and apologies and excuses, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled her closer and smiled at the little sigh she let out in response. Maybe Bucky wasn’t full of it. Maybe Darcy did have feelings for him. He closed his eyes and let himself imagine what it would be like to date Darcy Lewis, to be able to call the tiny package of sass and smarts his own.

It wouldn’t be boring. He knew that for sure.

But then she woke up and he panicked. She’d let him share her bed and he took advantage of the situation; not intentionally – at first – but maybe she wouldn’t see it that way. Maybe she’d think he was some asshole copping a cheap thrill. She’d never talk to him again. Clint would have to punch him. The group would shatter. It’d be his fault.

So, like a dumbass, he took the easy way out. He pretended to be asleep. He stayed still as she made her escape, praying to any God that was listening that she wouldn’t notice the effect her body had on his, and he let her leave. He didn’t think anyone would be awake. They’d get away with it and the rest of the weekend would go off without a hitch.

Then he heard Natasha’s voice.

A good man would have gotten up. A better man would have joined Darcy at the campfire so she wasn’t alone. Instead, he stayed in the relative safety of the canvas tent. He heard their speculation regarding his whereabouts. Darcy didn’t say anything. Was she ashamed? Embarrassed? Angry? He threw back the sleeping bag just as she announced he’d spent the night with her. Steve flinched at Clint’s reaction. He might punch Steve anyway. Part of him figured he deserved it. He sat up, prepared to face the music, and then Bucky crashed into his tent.

“Stevie! Up and at ‘em!” Their eyes locked and Bucky smiled. Evilly. “Sleep well?”

Steve really wished Bucky didn’t know him as well as he did. “Get out,” he growled.

“Might want to take care of that before you join us,” Bucky suggested with a pointed look at Steve’s sweatpants.

“Damn it, Bucky!”

Breakfast was hell. Bucky and Sam gave him shit. He’d be worried if they didn’t. It was odd that Clint didn’t join in. Instead, he stayed seated next to Darcy who didn’t look up from her plate. She never even told Bucky to shit up and yelling at Bucky was one of Darcy’s favorite things to do. Darcy was one of those people who gave as good as she got, but she stayed quiet, somehow shrinking further and further into herself before Natasha announced the girls were headed to the showers and the guys were responsible for cleaning up.

“Stay,” Bucky begged as Wanda got up to join the others. “Keep me company.”

She smiled and placed a kiss on the top of his head. “Girl talk,” she told him.

Steve shuddered at the words. Girl talk was dangerous. Given the strangeness around the campfire, he knew his name would be part of the conversation. He hoped Darcy would take pity on him. After all, they still thought he was coming off a breakup. That had to score some sympathy points, right? Or maybe they thought he was an ass who leapt from one bed to the next.

Fuck.

* * *

 

By the time Steve got back from his own visit to the bathrooms – yes, Sam, he remembered to bring a change of clothes; he wasn’t a complete idiot – he was determined to talk to Darcy and clear the air. Only she wasn’t there. Maria informed him that Darcy had gone with Jane, Wanda, Bucky and Thor to scout out locations for that night’s stargazing. He stashed his backpack in Darcy’s tent, ignoring Natasha’s raised eyebrow. He assumed he’d crash with Bucky and Wanda that night, but it didn’t feel right to just leave his shit in their tent without their OK.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Clint talked Sam into fishing,” Natasha smirked.

Steve weighed his options. Clint was unusually quiet during cleanup. If he was pissed about Steve sharing a tent with Darcy, he figured he’d know sooner or later. Steve’s seen Clint fight. Later was better. However, the idea of Sam fishing was tough to ignore. Sam was a city boy through and through, born and raised in the nation’s capital. He was fascinated by Clint and Darcy’s small town upbringing, to the point where both have shouted multiple times that they weren’t fucking sociology experiments.

“Want to tell us what happened with Sharon?”

Of course Maria would bring up the one topic Steve wanted to avoid more than Clint’s fists. He turned on his heel to the path that led to the lake, ignoring the chuckles behind him.

* * *

 

“I hate to see him go … ” Maria murmured as Steve stalked down the path.

“But love to watch him leave,” Natasha finished.

The two friends toasted each other with thermoses of coffee and a generous helping of Bailey’s. Natasha took a long drink, eyeing Maria the entire time. The brunette waited patiently. She knew how Natasha thought. The two of them had known each other since they were 15, two misfits who had nothing in common with their loud and vapid classmates.

Maria was a military brat who grew up on bases all over the world. The only reason she was at the boarding school was because her father was convinced stability would help Maria cope with the loss of her mother. Natasha was an orphan raised by her aunt, a pillar of Boston society who loved the idea of raising her poor niece – and the press it generated – but couldn’t be bothered to actually do the work. They endured three years swathed in navy plaid skirts and white button-down shirts the same way they achieved everything since: together.

Camping was not their thing. Despite being a walking-talking survival guide, Maria preferred putting her skills to use with technology over the great outdoors. Likewise, Natasha’s toughness was reserved for the hell dance put her through; not roughing it. But when Clint had mentioned the meteor shower and Jane’s interest in making a weekend of the event, the two set aside their disdain for the greater good: Darcy and Steve.

“At least he’s done pretending Sharon is the love of his life,” Maria remarked. “I don’t know how much longer I could stomach seeing the two of them together.”

Natasha said nothing. She didn’t understand Steve and Sharon’s decision to pretend they were still together when it was obvious to anyone who paid attention that they weren’t, but that was their business – not hers. Now that the ridiculousness of the situation was behind them, she was ready to help two people she decided years ago to claim as her own acknowledge what everyone already knew: they were made for each other. (Clint was still in denial, but Natasha had a few tricks up her sleeve that would sway him in her favor.)

“Bless his lack for foresight for making our job a little easier,” Maria continued as she packed up the items needed for that night’s hike. “Although I thought all we needed was to get those two in a room together and the unresolved sexual tension would take care of the rest.”

“A tent a few feet away from their friends isn’t the same as a room.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Are you telling me you didn’t hear Thor and Jane last night?”

Natasha’s lips curved upwards. “How could I over you and Sam?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... my muse has decided to run away. This chapter took forever to write. If you see her, please ask her to come home. Thank you!


End file.
